


Secret Santa

by NimWallace



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Christmas, Christmas Fluff, Christmas Presents, Ficlet, Fluffy Ending, Friendship/Love, Gen, M/M, One Shot, Secret Santa, Short & Sweet, you decide if its johnlock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-01
Updated: 2018-12-01
Packaged: 2019-09-04 22:24:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 704
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16798228
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NimWallace/pseuds/NimWallace
Summary: Sherlock and John get each other for secret santa and struggle to get each other gifts :)Written for @ICanDoThisAllDayy





	Secret Santa

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Русский available: [Тайный Санта](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17092676) by [Little_Unicorn](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Little_Unicorn/pseuds/Little_Unicorn)



“It'll be fun, Sherlock!”   
Sherlock rolled his eyes, not drawing them away from his microscope.   
“The whole concept is foolish, John. ' _Secret_ _Santa_ '? A game named after a fictional entity for a holiday we have no reason to celebrate? Why?”   
“Because it's _fun_ ,” John said, writing down Sherlock's name on a slip of paper anyway. “And this year, you are not to deduce who got who.”   
“How?!” he growled. “I can't help it!”   
“We're picking our names in the other room and then leaving,” Greg said. “No cheating.”   
John looked at Sherlock pointedly.   
“ _Fine_ ,” he said. “I'll play along.” With sighs of relief from Molly, Greg, John, and Mrs Hudson, Sherlock reluctantly pulled a name from the hat.   
He didn't even bother opening it, as he could see it was in John's handwriting.   
_John. That shouldn't be so hard.  
_The others went downstairs and all drew a name, then left immediately less the detective get clues. John unfolded his paper.   
_Sherlock._  


  
John spent the week agonizing over the gift. He had know clue what to get, given that Sherlock was completely unpredictable at most times. _He'll probably just throw away whatever it is anyway,_ he thought sullenly.   
He wrote onto his blog, asking people for advice.   
“Writing more romantic drivel, John?” Sherlock asked from the table. John closed his laptop.   
“Yep,” he said. Then he got an idea.

Sherlock was not a gift-giver.   
His family didn't give each other gifts on Christmas, and besides that, he just didn't bother getting to know most people.   
But he _knew_ John, and yet, that made it somehow more daunting. He actually. . . _wanted_ him to like it. What did John like? Ugly jumpers, early grey tea, Pablo De Sarasate—  
Pablo De Sarasate.   
He looked over at his violin.   
  
Christmas Eve came on a particularly chilly night, so the fireplace was roaring and the whole room smelled of cedar.   
The guests arrived one by one, and Sherlock didn't voice his deductions out loud. He could tell Greg got Molly, and Molly got Mrs Hudson, and Mrs Hudson got Greg.   
That meant John got him.   
They all sat down, and the awkward unwrapping began. Greg got Molly two pairs of fluffy socks with little cats on them, which she seemed to genuinely like. Molly got Mrs Hudson a new electric kettle to replace the old one she had downstairs ( _“Oh, that's lovely dear, how thoughtful!)_ and Mrs Hudson had knitted Greg a scarf with NSY stitched across.   
John looked away as he handed Sherlock something poorly wrapped and flimsy.   
“Don't worry, I _won't_ deduce it,” he promised. He unwrapped it to find a thick stack of papers, sown together. The top was labeled, _“The Baskerville Case.”  
_“It's a few of our cases,” John explained. “I wrote them up again, this time, you know, how you want them. No dialogue or anything, just the facts and how you solved it. I also added forensic and medical reports and stuff.”   
Sherlock flipped through the book, stunned at the detail.   
“I—thank you,” he said. “Thank you, John. It's lovely.” He didn't know what else to say. He wished everyone else would leave so he could read it all through.   
Then he remembered he also had a gift to give.   
He handed John the small square present.   
“Should I get gloves first?” John teased. Sherlock smiled.   
“Nothing toxic this year,” he promised. John opened it.   
He took a minute to recognize what it was. A CD, with the names of various pieces of music on the back.   
“It's all your favorites,” Sherlock explained. “The pieces I play, that you like. I recorded them all so you can listen when I'm not here.”   
He reddened, suddenly fearing he may have done something arrogant and John didn't like it. John was staring blankly at it.   
“It's all right, if you want to toss it, should've—“  
“Toss it? What? Sherlock, this is great. This is. . .so thoughtful.”  
Was John _tearing_ up?   
“Have I done something wrong?” Sherlock asked, panicking.   
“Sherlock, he loves it,” Molly assured him. “He's touched.”   
“ _Oh_.”   
So he'd done it right. He'd made John feel a _good_ thing. That was rare.   
Mrs Hudson, grinned.   
She did not regret rigging the game this year. 


End file.
